“You really didn’t know we were shifters?” he asks.
My cheeks heat. Could be embarrassment. Could be arousal. I don’t really care.
The bottom line is my mates are men. And, better yet, they’re hot.
Jelly Donut isn’t quite as built as the other two, but he’s tall and lean and muscular and oh so sexy. He’s also examining me in a way that makes my stomach lurch. Then again, he is a donut… sort of… and thinking about donuts always makes me ill.
I can’t say I’m not disappointed that my mates shift into dough and donuts… but I’m glad at least they’re men. Good looking, muscular men. Men I wouldn’t mind spending my vacation getting to know. Preferably naked. Somewhere that doesn’t reek of donuts.
What are they even doing at the Squishy Shifters Donut Emporium? Wait a minute! No. “Oh God no!”
“What’s wrong?” Squishy Donut grabs me by the shoulders and helps me into a chair. He starts rubbing my back in slow, soft circles. I think he’s trying to calm me down, but all I can think about is how he’s squishy. And he’s here, in the Donut Emporium’s back room.
“You guys are the Squishy Bakers,” I cry.
Squishy Donut nods. “I’m Andres.” He gestures at Jelly Donut. “That’s York. And that…” he nudges Lump of Dough, “is Brooks.”
“I’m Jet,” I tell him. I don’t even add that my friends call me Jetta. I’m too distracted by four irrefutable facts.
“You’re my mates. You own this place. You ruined my life. And I hate donuts!”
Brooks
“How can anyone hate donuts?” I demand a second before it hits me.
My mate’s name is Jet. The Jet. Jet Bower, the man—at least, we thought Jet was a man—who tried to shut us down.
We’ve had a health inspector and two visits from the city because of her. She complained we were releasing toxic fumes into the air. She said we were poisoning the neighborhood. She even accused us of forcing innocent people out of their homes. All lies.
Baking is my life, and she tried to take that from me. She tried to shut down the business of my dreams. How can I ever be with her—how can the three of us ever be with her—when she almost ruined our lives?
York
“You don’t actually hate donuts, Jet,” I tell her gently. “Guys, she doesn’t actually hate donuts.”
Andres sighs in relief.
Brooks furrows his brows in doubt.
Jet shakes her head. “I go by Jetta. And I definitely hate donuts.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “They’re made of gluten, and sugar, and empty—”
“Jetta,” I interrupt, taking her hand in mine, “let me prove to you that you can love donuts.”
I reach past her, and she swallows hard. Her pupils dilate, proving that she’s into me. Proving that this will work.
I pick up the jelly donut I was eating earlier, and poor Jetta looks like she might throw up. If I made her eat it, she just might.
“Are you sure about this?” Brooks asks.
I nod. “Jetta, please, trust me. My talent is finding anyone their perfect donut, including you.”
Jetta purses her lips and lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll eat the donut. But if I throw up, it’s on you.”
“You won’t throw up.” Then, I take her finger, dip it in the delicious jelly, and suck it slowly into my mouth.
Jetta
When York’s hot mouth closes around my finger, I feel it straight down to my core. He sucks on my finger. He swirls his tongue. He licks every bit of jelly off.
I can’t help it. I moan.
“You love donuts,” York says. Then he dips my finger into the donut one more time. He takes his time licking the jelly off. He sucks my finger into his mouth and makes sure there isn’t a trace of sticky sugar left. Then he grins. “Just admit it, Jetta. You want me to cover every part of you with donuts. You want Andres to rub a chocolate glaze on your nipples and clean them with his tongue.”
I moan. So does Andres.
“You want Brooks to sprinkle powdered sugar on your clit and—”
I gasp. Brooks groans. And I can’t take it anymore.
I yank York toward me so hard he nearly loses his balance. Then, I claim his mouth in a fiery kiss.
When our lips touch, my entire body ignites. Part of it is that York’s my mate. Part of it is that he really knows how to kiss. Mostly it’s the thought of these three hot, delicious bakers licking donuts off every part of me. That turns me on like nothing else.
I always thought I hated donuts. I always thought desserts were empty calories that literally ruined lives. Now, I finally understand. Donuts bring people pleasure. They can bring me pleasure. As long as I’m not the one who’s eating them.
Brooks
The thought of licking powdered sugar off my mate makes my brain short-circuit.
I no longer care that she wrote those letters. So she tried to shut us down. It didn’t work. She was wrong. And that look on her face tells me she’ll never do something like that again.
I have my bakery. I get to work with dough every day. And the best thing in the world just happened. I learned that baking turns my mate on. I saw it on her face right before she kissed my friend.
I’m not jealous that she kissed my friend—if anything, I’m relieved. I’ve always worried Andres, York and I would end up with women who didn’t get along. That it would put a wedge between us. Strain our friendship. Ruin everything that we’ve built.
My friends and I share a business. We share a house. We share everything. So it makes sense that we’d share a mate, too. And nothing in this world will ever beat the sight of her getting all turned on when York mentioned chocolate glaze and powdered sugar.
I want to bake all my favorite treats, rub them all over Jetta’s naked body, and lick her clean. I want to try different recipes just to see how they taste on her nipples and her clit. Now that would make my life complete.
Jetta
Andres scoops me up and carries me to the worktable. He peels off my sweater while York heads into the donut shop and grabs a tray of donuts. When I see them—Boston creme, powdered, lemon filled, chocolate, chocolate glaze—I don’t feel disgust. I don’t even care about the empty calories. I’m too turned on.
I also know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I do like donuts. Because I don’t have to eat a single one. My mates will. And one look at their hot, sculpted bodies as they peel off their shirts tells me they’ll be no worse for it.
They surround me—three hot, muscular, shirtless bakers—and my eyes rove over their bodies like they’re the most delicious desserts. My type of desserts.
I never thought that bulging muscles could belong to bakers. And I never imagined that the sight of donuts could make me this turned on. I think I’m going to melt.
Andres runs a hand through my hair and sweeps it off my neck. Then he picks up a squishy donut covered in chocolate and presses it against my neck. It’s sticky, and the chocolate melts against my skin. But all I care about is which mate will be the one to lick it off.
York
I’ve always loved being able to tell exactly which donut each person needs… but I never thought I’d be able to use my talents like this.
Somehow, implicitly, I know which donut should go where on Jetta’s body. Just like I know which one of us should be the one to lick it off.
Andres runs his hands all over Jetta’s body while he licks the chocolate off. When he’s done, we remove Jetta’s remaining clothes and put our delicious donuts to good use.
I take the lemon filled, break it in half, and spread the yellow filling over Jetta’s nipples. I gesture for Andres to lick it off one nipple, and hand the donut to a grinning Brooks. He pops it in his mouth while I lean in and pull Jetta’s right nipple into my mouth.
With each flick of the tongue, Jetta’s moans get louder. And when we’re done, she’s trembling in our arms.
I grin and grab a cinnamon twist. I hand it to Brooks and ge
sture between Jetta’s legs, but he looks confused.
“You want me to stick that inside her?” he asks.
Jetta’s eyes widen. It’s definitely a mix of horror, curiosity, and desire.
I start to laugh. “No, don’t stick it inside her. You…” I snort, “you…” and then I shift.
Andres
York shifts, so of course Brooks does, too. It leaves just me with Jetta, and I run my hands all over her delectable body, enjoying the ripples of pleasure I feel when I touch her soft, warm skin.
I love the tactile powers that come with being a squishy shifter. I can feel Jetta’s pleasure everywhere I touch. I want to spend the rest of my life like this, exploring her body, learning what feels good. Because every touch and lick that pleases her also pleases me.
My hand glides down her stomach to her navel, but the pleasure’s muted when her attention moves to my friends.
“Why did they shift?” She frowns at them, and then at me.
“York shifts when he laughs, and Brooks is a sympathetic shifter,” I explain.
“A what?”
“He shifts whenever someone else around him shifts.”
“Oh.” She bites her lower lip. “What about you?”
“I only shift when startled. And nothing’s going to startle me while I have you naked like this.”
Jetta
I have so many questions for my mates. I want to know why they shift into the forms they do. I’m curious what it feels like to be a donut, dough, or a squishy. I wonder what would happen if I tried to lick or bite their shifted forms—not that I even would, since I still have zero plans of ever eating carbs or sugar. And I’m very interested in learning more about the guys themselves. Do they have hobbies outside the bakery? What were their childhoods like? When did they meet? And why did they open their emporium here, in my town?
I’m dying to ask it all, but Andres distracts me with his expert touch. I moan and decide there’ll be plenty of time for questions. Later. I’ve got two weeks of vacation left, and we’ve got the rest of our lives.
Andres swirls his finger around my belly button and shivers, like the touch gives him pleasure, too. His fingers glide lower, teasing me, until I don’t think I can take it anymore.
Then my other two mates finally shift back.
“Lick the textured sugar off the cinnamon twist,” York tells Brooks. “Then lick Jetta’s clit.”
The textured sugar sends wave after wave of pleasure coursing through me. It builds until Brooks and his expert tongue are all I can think about.
York rubs a toasted coconut donut over my nipples, its rough, textured exterior heightening the pleasure, and I shatter with the biggest, most amazing orgasm of my life.
After that, it’s a mix of donuts, pleasure, and three bakers who really are as sexy as the donuts they bake.
Brooks grabs some condoms. Andres lowers me from the worktable and turns us so that his back is to the worktable and my back is to him. He slips on protection and slides inside me from behind while I hold on to the muscular Brooks.
Andres slams into me, over and over. And his hands travel up and down my body, focusing on the most sensitive spots.
I’m on the verge of another orgasm when York grabs an apple fritter—a sticky, textured donut that he rubs along my inner thighs. Brooks grins and gets on his knees to lick the sugar off while York rubs a powdered donut on my nipples and then starts cleaning them with his tongue.
I come again, and Andres lets out a groan and shatters inside me. Brooks takes his place, and more donuts come into play. So many that I soon lose track. All I know is that each one has a different texture and a different feel, and there are so many parts of my body the guys can lick these donuts off of.
York puts on a condom last, and I lose count of the orgasms like I lose count of donuts. But in the end, my mates are satisfied, I’m satisfied, and all the donuts have been eaten. Thankfully, not by me.
The next evening, I wake up an hour before sunset. My bedroom smells like donuts, but for the first time since the Squishy Shifters opened up their Donut Emporium, I don’t feel like throwing up. But I still need to get away from the smell.
I grab the first outfit I can find—and some sexy lingerie—and jump into my car. Then I drive back to Jewels Cafe in Moonlit Falls. My squishy shifters and I aren’t meeting up for several hours, and there’s no way I can wait for them in town. Not when it smells like donuts.
After last night, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pass a bakery—or look at a pastry—without thinking about sex. And the smell of baking donuts gets me so worked up I literally have to leave town. So it’s a good thing I have three squishy shifter mates that can satisfy me and they have an endless supply of donuts for us to enjoy.
THE END
Discover Silver Springs and Moonlit Falls
Love the inanimate object shifters from Shifter Bay? You’ll find them in Silver Springs, a paranormal reverse harem small town. It is a shared universe with over a dozen romance authors and 60+ books. It currently contains three series: Jewels Cafe, Spell Library and Silver Skates. You’ll love Wynter by Mia Harlan, the reverse harem romance where Xavi the ice block shifter finds his mate.
Want to know what happens to Nephrite, the Shetland pony shifter who’s opening Jewels Cafe? Join her as she tries a pumpkin spice latte, finds her fated mates, and deals with one diva of an espresso machine in Moonlit Nephrite by Mia Harlan and Eva Delaney. It’s set in Moonlit Falls, a sister town to Silver Springs, where Mia, Eva, and a dozen debut reverse harem romance authors create laugh-out-loud moments that start with a signature pumpkin spice latte that’s laced with a fated mate spell. Available on June 3, 2021.
Find out more at: silverspringslibrary.com
About the Author
Mia lives in Canada with her husband (who’s definitely Not a Vampire) and their adorably fluffy cat. They recently welcomed a Mini Mortal (a baby girl) into the world and are happy to report she doesn't have fangs.
Mia is a librarian by day and an author by night. She's been reading romance since she turned thirteen and published her first romance novel in 2019. She writes humorous, quirky (and mostly paranormal) reverse harem romance as Mia Harlan and teen werewolf romance as Mia Meade.
Mia loves sending weird emails about how her husband is Not a Vampire and her bestie has fangs. Sign up on her website:
miaharlan.com
Her Boiling Angels
Voyageur Bay
TB Mann
Heat level: 3
Escaping to a small town was a way to find herself. But never in her wildest dreams did she expect them.
Isabella runs to the only small town containing good memories from her childhood. Her inheritance in one hand and a plan to open her own business in the other. All she needs for her new start. Until a bad fall risks it all.
Academic Dean Ben and Doctor Caleb share everything. But the moment Ben heard about the town’s newest resident, he wanted her. Convinced Caleb will feel the same, he plans a sneak attack. But the age gap between them could throw a wrench into everything.
One thing is for certain… heat makes water boil. And tea loving Isabella, Ben, and Caleb have plenty of fire. But problems, like rocks dropping into water, could scald them all.
This is small town, MFM, age gap romance introduces readers to Voyageur Bay. A town where love is everything and the residents learn to accept everyone.
Chapter 1
Isabella
The fragrant air surrounding me soothed my tense and strained muscles. Tonight, I’d need a long hot soak in the bath if I had any hope of wanting to move tomorrow. And I’d need to. So much still needed to be done before opening day, but at least the major work was complete.
The damp and dirty rag dropped from my limp fingers into the bucket with a splash, spraying my legs with a soapy wetness that cooled my overheated skin. Even with the door open to the night, the air remained overly warm. The water slid down my bare legs, leaving
rivulets of cleanish skin amongst the dust and dirt. I was a right hot mess, but satisfaction thrummed like a soft purr in my chest. It had been tough, more work than I’d ever done in my twenty-two years on this earth, and I was proud of it. For the first time, I could say that I accomplished something on my own, without any help from my parents. I was standing on my own two feet and whatever happened—the successes and the failures—were my responsibility. It was a lot to have resting on my shoulders, but I welcomed it. Anything was better than the life my parents had planned for me.
I took a step back and smiled. What had been a wreck of a library when I first toured the empty house on Fourth Street near downtown Voyageur Bay, now gleamed. The deep dark brown colour returned to the wooden shelving that stood ready to display the various tea pots, strainers, cups, warmers, and cozies that would be for sale. The shelves wrapped around to cover the back wall where I’d display the teas—both loose leaf and in bags—and books about teas. It matched the vision I had when I’d stood in this very room two months earlier with the local real estate agent, Julie. She’d told me that the house had been left vacant after Mr. Smithers’ heirs attempted to decide what to do with it after he’d passed away a few years earlier. And I’d been glad they’d fought over it, keeping it available for the moment I needed it.
The old rolling ladder sat oiled and ready for use. Something I needed to allow me to reach the upper four shelves. I loved my five foot three height, but sometimes it made reaching things a little difficult. At least the topmost two rows of shelves contained doors which made them the perfect spot to place my extra stock.
Eat Your Heart Out: A Romance Charity Anthology Page 6